


If My Wishes Came  True

by bookwormforalways



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends to Lovers, F/M, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, One Tree Hill AU, and a coffee shop au too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28777989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormforalways/pseuds/bookwormforalways
Summary: Clarke’s best friend, Bellamy, is the most selfless person she knows, continually making sacrifices to take care of the people he loves.So when Bellamy is presented with the opportunity of a lifetime, one that requires him to make his first selfish choice in years, Clarke does everything she can to encourage him. Even if that means putting aside her own feelings and sending him on an adventure far away from her.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 76
Kudos: 132





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sweetcarolinee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetcarolinee/gifts), [igotbellarkeforthat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/igotbellarkeforthat/gifts).



> Written for my loves, Care & Kim. 🥰🥰🥰
> 
> This fic was inspired from our one tree hill rewatch, where every (season 1) keith&karen angst scene had me feeling all the bellarke feels in our group chat. And then I joked about turning it into a fic, and after far too much wine, well, here it is.
> 
> fic title from taylor swift's 'the 1'

The bell chimed over the door as Clarke pushed it open, stepping into Kane’s Cafe, her favourite place in Ark Hill. It was the perfect blend of coffee shop and bookstore, with the added bonus of being run by her best friend. 

“Hey. Coffee?” Bellamy asked from behind the counter, wiping his hands on a tea towel, a smile on his face appearing at the door chime. 

Clarke nodded, “Do you even need to ask?” She sat down at the counter, at the stool unofficially known by the whole town as hers, because she sat there every day. 

Within seconds, a mug of hot coffee - one cream, no sugar, exactly how she liked it - was placed in front of her. 

“Busy today?” she asked, cupping her hands around the mug’s warmth. 

Bellamy shook his head slightly, his dark curly hair bouncing slightly with the motion. “Not quite, it’ll pick up soon, once school’s out for the day.”

“Ah, so what were you reading today?”

Bellamy grinned, ducking his head down at the floor for a moment before pulling a book out from under the register. His enthusiasm was contagious as he explained a brief overview of the plot, and his favourite parts so far. 

For someone who had barely managed to graduate high school, Bellamy was the smartest and most well-read person she’d ever known. He had even taken to writing his own stories. A few of his short stories had been published in local magazines and online forums. And Bellamy had been writing a full novel on and off for a few years now, scribbling quick paragraphs in his notebook whenever he found the time between running the cafe and taking care of his sister. If life had handed him a different set of circumstances, who knows what he could have achieved. 

The bell above the door chimed again, interrupting Bellamy’s explanation. With a small smile in her direction, Bellamy transformed from book enthusiast to coffee shop manager, giving his full attention to the paying customers. 

This was a normal interruption, and it happened all the time. Clarke reached down into her bag, and pulled out her tablet. As Bellamy took orders and poured drinks, she worked quietly on her latest project, graphics for a children’s book she was illustrating. 

This was normal. As she sipped her coffee, Clarke stole a quick glance around the cafe, and a quick glance at Bellamy too. 

It was like he honestly didn’t remember what had happened last weekend, even though the memories of that night constantly replayed through her mind. 

The town’s local small business appreciation evening was last weekend. And like every year for the past few years, Clarke and Bellamy had attended together as friends. It never mattered that she would love to be more than friends, harbouring a crush on her best friend for the last fifteen years. Bellamy’s life was crazy enough without throwing feelings or a relationship into the mix, and she was simply grateful enough to still be in his life as a friend, and to see him every day. 

While the fancy evening out had begun exactly like years past - the same venue, catering, and emcee’s jokes - this year ended far differently from her other memories. 

Due to an earlier disagreement with his sister, Bellamy had more to drink than he normally did. But to be fair, so did Clarke, as she had tried to keep up, matching him drink for drink. So when one of the other business owners, a snarky woman named Echo, berated Bellamy for selling books in a digital age, Clarke had taken Bellamy’s arm and led him away from the fight before it could begin. 

They left the event early, and walked back to Bellamy’s apartment, which was over the cafe. She helped him up the stairs and to the couch as quietly as possible, as his younger sister Octavia was asleep in the next room. 

Knowing his apartment like the back of her hand, Clarke kicked off her heels and found them both a glass of water, and then sat down on the couch next to Bellamy, still in her fancy evening dress. 

It must have been the alcohol in his system that caused him to shift in his seat, moving closer to her, much closer than they normally sat. Sitting pressed against his side, the feeling of being next to Bellamy was comforting and overwhelming at the same time, and Clarke felt drawn closer, a magnetic pull. 

So it really didn’t surprise Clarke all that much when she had woken up a few hours later, still on the couch, and held tightly in Bellamy’s arms. For a fleeting second she snuggled against Bellamy’s warm body, before remembering that they were just friends, and nothing more. They had been drunk, and he was still asleep now. 

The sky was mostly dark, with the faint purpley pink colours of sunrise beginning to show over the horizon as Clarke untangled herself from Bellamy’s arms. In his sleep, he tried to keep her close, his arms unwilling to let her go. 

Her name escaped from his lips in a low mumble, raising goosebumps over her skin. He mumbled a few more words, unintelligible due to his sleepy state. But her own exhausted brain thought she’d heard the words, _don’t go, I love you._

But Bellamy would never say that to her. 

Clarke didn’t want to leave Bellamy, but she knew she should. They’d been best friends for too long, and if something were to change between them, this wasn’t how it would begin. She wanted him to be awake, conscious at least, if they were ever going to honestly talk about their feelings for each other. 

For the last fifteen years, Clarke had carefully kept her feelings for Bellamy under wraps, kept in the dark under lock and key. She knew his priority would always be taking care of Octavia, and never wanted to put Bellamy in the position to have to choose between herself and his sister. But ever since the awards night, when she had woken up in his arms, her feelings kept bubbling up. As quickly as she tried to shove her feelings away, Bellamy would say or do something that would bring it all back, reminding Clarke of how much she loved him. 

“Want a refill?” Bellamy’s voice caught her off guard, and pulled Clarke from her memories. For a moment she couldn’t speak at all, lost in his dark eyes, and nodded instead. 

Coffee always helped. Coffee kept things normal. He poured the coffee, she drank the coffee. That was their normal. 

“What are you working on?” Bellamy asked, leaning his forearms on the counter, stealing a few quiet minutes as there were no more customers lining up. 

She swallowed sharply at the sight of his muscular arms. It was the littlest things - Bellamy biting his lip in concentration, straining to open a sealed jar, or moving around heavy furniture in the cafe - that would make her stomach flip. 

Ignoring the butterflies in her stomach, Clarke spun her tablet around for him to see. But before she could explain the children’s book she was designing, the bell over the door chimed again. 

“Hey, Bell. There’s mail for you,” Octavia called, barreling through the door into the cafe as if she owned the place. Which in a sense was almost true, as it was the only home she’d ever known. “Oh, hey Clarke.”

Bellamy accepted the bundle of mail from his sister, and tried to ruffle her hair as she walked by the counter. Ever the athlete of the family, Octavia easily dodged him, and sprinted up the stairs to their apartment. 

Bellamy’s mother had managed the cafe and lived above the shop for as long as Clarke had known Bellamy. His mother had been friends with Marcus Kane, the owner, and kept the place running when Kane moved out of town. When Bellamy was fifteen, his little sister was born, forever changing his life. If Clarke wasn’t already half in love with her best friend by then, when she saw him interact with his baby sister, she was a goner. 

And then everything changed when they turned eighteen. Bellamy’s mother died in a car accident, leaving Bellamy with sole custody of his three year old sister. Kane graciously offered to let them stay in the apartment, and gave Bellamy a job at the cafe as well. Bellamy had finished his high school diploma in night school while Clarke babysat Octavia, and he’d worked at the cafe ever since. Bellamy had given up every dream - university, teaching, travelling - and his freedom to take care of his sister. 

Clarke had floated in and out of town for years, going out of state for university and then again for her master’s program in graphic design, returning each summer to find Bellamy managing the cafe and Octavia growing taller and sassier. And when she started her own graphic design business, Clarke knew returning to Ark Hill was a no-brainer. It was her hometown and where she had roots, and where her best friend lived - besides, there was nowhere else where grumpy baristas knew her coffee order by heart and would let her sit at their counter for hours on end with free refills. 

“ _Holy shit_!” The words quietly, reverently, slipped out of Bellamy’s mouth as he stared in awe at paper he held. 

“What’s that?” Clarke asked, looking up from her tablet at him. 

He looked stunned, almost frozen still in shock. “I got in,” Bellamy whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. He rubbed his eyes, and kept staring at the paper. “I can’t believe it.”

“Got in? What’s going on Bell?” she asked again, reaching across the counter for the envelope. 

The return address was stamped, and looked official, but Bellamy snatched the envelope out of her grasp before she could read it. 

“What’s going on down here?” Octavia asked, wandering behind the counter to grab her apron. She’d quickly changed out of her school clothes and was back downstairs to work behind the register for a few hours. Octavia had been helping Bellamy out around the cafe ever since she was old enough to alphabetize books and carry dirty dishes to the kitchen. 

“Hey O. Umm,” Bellamy started to say, before quickly folding up the letter and envelope, and shoving them both into his back pocket. He ran his hand through his hair, a gesture Clarke instantly recognized as a nervous habit. “Nothing. Everything’s fine. O, watch the counter for a few minutes, will you? I need to run upstairs.”

Without leaving any room for an explanation, Bellamy untied his apron and dashed up the stairs. At the audible slam of the apartment door, Clarke shared a long look with Octavia. They both knew Bellamy well enough to know that it was in fact _not_ nothing. 

As Octavia turned to help a customer in line, Clarke turned her attention back to her tablet. All the while her mind was wondering, what the hell was going on with Bellamy Blake, and maybe, just maybe he had gone and done something for himself for the first time in a long, long time. 

\---

The next afternoon, Clarke found her spot at the cafe counter again. Bellamy waved hello, but was busy in the kitchen, pulling fresh muffins out of the oven, filling the cafe with the most delicious aroma. 

Yesterday, Bellamy had returned to the cafe twenty minutes later, pretending as if nothing was amiss. When she and Octavia bugged him about it, he waved away their concern, saying it was nothing important, and retreated to the kitchen to begin preparing for the dinner rush. He had skillfully dodged the subject for the rest of the night. 

Today, Clarke was determined to get to the bottom of it. Bellamy was her best friend after all, so she had a right to know what was going on in his life. 

“So what the heck happened yesterday?” she asked without preamble as he set her coffee in front of her. 

“What are you talking about?” Bellamy questioned back, rubbing his forehead with the back of his wrist. 

“Cut the crap, Blake. I know you better than that.” She narrowed her eyes at him, “What came in the mail?”

He looked up at the ceiling for a moment and then sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll tell you, but later tonight. I need your help with something anyway. Can you stay after I close?”

Clarke held his stare for a second, and then nodded. “Yeah, that works. But should I be worried?”

“No, everything’s fine,” Bellamy assured her with a small wave, reaching out to grab a rag to wipe the counter down. “Now, how are those book pages coming along?”

Trusting that he would talk to her later, Clarke pulled up the piece she had spent the morning working on, eager to get Bellamy’s feedback on her artwork. 

\---

“Wait, you really want my help building these?” Clarke asked, arching her brow. 

Bellamy grinned, and looked around the cafe and the space on the floor he had asked Clarke to clear - the chairs and tables were stacked and the floor had been cleaned. After tidying up, Bellamy had dragged three large boxes out of storage to lean against the counter. Three bookshelves to be built to accommodate Kane’s Cafe’s growing book collection - despite book sales supposedly dropping in a digital age. “Yeah. I’ll just need an extra hand. Obviously I’ll do all the heavy lifting,” he teased. 

“Oh, _obviously,_ ” she joked back, playfully punching his bicep as she walked past him to the counter where she had a glass of wine waiting. 

“Hey, now,” Bellamy called out, prying the wine from her hands. “Help first, then we drink.” 

Clarke groaned, leaning against the counter. “I didn’t sign up for manual labour!” 

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he said again, showing her a smile that she couldn’t refuse. 

Fifteen minutes later, Clarke and Bellamy had found an easy rhythm where Clarke helped hold all the pieces in place while Bellamy hammered everything together. They quickly put together the first bookshelf and opened up the second box. 

“So, the letter…” Bellamy said, bringing up the topic as he unpacked the pieces from the box. 

“The letter,” she echoed. Clarke understood why he had waited to bring up the subject until now, until his hands were occupied with a simple task to steal the centre of attention. 

He wiped his hands on his jeans. “I applied on a whim. I never thought I’d actually get in. But,” he took a deep breath as he placed a shelf into the correct position, “I got accepted to a writer’s workshop. In England. Through Oxford University.”

“Holy shit, Bell! That’s amazing!” Clarke exclaimed. In her excitement she accidentally let go of the board she was holding in place, and it clattered loudly to the floor. 

Once it settled, a silence echoed throughout the empty cafe. 

“Wait, why aren’t you more excited?” she asked, staring him down.

“Because, _ugh_ ,” Bellamy sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. “Because I can’t go, _obviously_. It’s cool to know that I got in and all, but I’m telling them that I can’t accept.”

Clarke placed her hands on her hips. “That’s ridiculous! You’re not even going to think about it?”

“What’s there to think about, Clarke? It’s three months in a foreign country. I can’t leave my sister for that long, I can’t leave the cafe unattended, and it’ll blow through most of my savings.” 

“Shit, when you say it like that…” Clarke mused, bending down to pick the board off the floor. She held it just out of his reach, and locked her eyes with his. “But if those things weren’t standing in the way, would you _want_ to go?”

Bellamy held her stare, but his brow wrinkled in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, Bell. You’ve never done anything for yourself. You’ve been taking care of Octavia since she was born, and I know she’s your sister and you would do anything for her. But, what if someone was willing to take care of Octavia, and help with the cafe? Would you consider going?”

“Right, and who would be willing to put up with O for that long?” he shrugged, brushing off her words as he picked up a hammer, returning his focus back to securing the shelf in it’s bracket. 

Clarke reached out and put a hand over his, causing him to freeze and look up at her. 

Her stomach flipped at the intense stare in his dark eyes, but she persisted. “Me,” Clarke offered, “Let me help, Bell.”

Bellamy laughed at her. “You can’t be serious.”

Clarke held her stare. “I am. Come on, it could totally work. I can stay at your place with Octavia, and run the cafe during the day while you’re away. I used to watch Octavia all the time when we were younger. It can’t be all that hard to figure out things here at the cafe, if you teach me. Besides, I spend most of my time here anyway.” 

Bellamy’s eyes softened, as if he were actually pondering her suggestion. He pulled his hand out from underneath her grip and raked it through his curls. 

“Maybe that’d work for a few weeks, but three months, Clarke? I could never ask you to do that. Besides, what about your own work? You can’t give up clients just to work at the cafe, covering for me. No, that’s not happening.”

“And you can’t give up on your dreams just to work here forever, okay Bell?” Clarke retorted, throwing his own argument back at him. “And besides, you know I freelance. So I can work here when it’s not too busy, or at night after the cafe closes.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy said softly, saying her name with awe and a level of devotion that made her cheeks flush. “I appreciate the offer, I really do. But this trip just isn’t for me. Maybe I can apply again in a few years, after O graduates.” 

“Fine, I understand.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked up at him through her lashes. “Just promise me you’ll think about it, about accepting. My offer still stands, and as your best friend, I need you to know that I think you should go. This is an incredible opportunity. You’ve made so many sacrifices to make sure Octavia has everything she could ever need, and that just speaks to what an amazing person you are. But you’re allowed to do this for you. Be selfish. This is a once in a lifetime chance. Don’t throw it away so quickly.” 

“You done?” He asked, feigning grumpiness even though his cheeks were flushed from her praise. 

When Clarke nodded and mimed zipping her lips shut, Bellamy picked up his hammer again. He lined up the next board. “You’re right,” he said in a voice so quiet Clarke almost missed what he said. “I promise I’ll think about it, at the very least.” 

Smiling, Clarke reached out and squeezed his shoulder. She was so insanely proud of her best friend, and knew she would do everything in her power to convince him to take this opportunity, even if it did mean sending him on a three month adventure far away from her. 

\---

“So I talked to O,” Bellamy said a few days later, when Clarke sat down at her spot along the counter. A mug of coffee appeared almost immediately, along with a blueberry muffin, still warm from the oven. 

“And?” Clarke prodded, curious to know how his sister reacted. 

He smiled shyly, “And she said pretty much the same things you did. Well, actually, she was harsher. Said I’d be a _‘damn idiot_ ’ if I passed this up.”

Clarke snorted, not surprised by Octavia’s sassy response one bit. “So does that mean that you’re going?” 

His shoulders rose as he took a deep breath. “I still don’t know. I just can’t help but feel like it’s completely irresponsible for me to go, you know?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Seeing as you’re the most responsible person I know, and have been since you were a teenager, I’d say you deserve a break. Live a little, and all that jazz.” 

Bellamy fiddled with a pen behind the register, clearly still unsure of his decision. “But what if something happens when I’m gone? What if-“

“What if you don’t go, and end up regretting it for the rest of your life?” Clarke cut him off, and shot him a pointed look. 

“And there’s that,” Bellamy agreed with a sigh, nodding his head in her direction. “So what should I do? I have to let them know by tomorrow.”

She wrapped her palms around the hot mug, and inhaled the addictive scent of her coffee. “You already know what I think you should do. So go with your gut, Bell. You’re smart, trust your instincts.”

Bellamy stayed quiet, processing her words, as he nervously tapped the pen against the register. 

“But, I’m free this afternoon, so I still think you should start training me. Just in case,” Clarke added, bringing a small smile back to her best friend's face. 

“Oh, you think?” he teased. 

“Just let me caffeinate first, and then I’m all yours,” she said, lifting the mug to her lips, and hoping her cheeks weren’t flushed red at the double entendre in her words. If only Bellamy knew she was already his in every other way. 

\---

The following week, Clarke began her official training at Kane’s Cafe, starting bright and early at the ungodly hour of six in the morning. 

Clarke groaned, and wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist. “How do you do this every damn day?” she whined, glancing up at Bellamy. 

The smirk he had worn minutes ago, amused at Clarke’s attempts to set up the coffee maker and espresso machine, was long gone, and a strained expression took its place. 

He sighed, “Shit, I knew this was a bad idea. I never should have accepted the program. I’m going to call them and say I can’t attend anymore.” 

“Don’t you dare do that, Bellamy Blake,” Clarke spun around and pointed a finger at him. “Show me one more time, I promise I’ll figure this out.” 

Bellamy sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, like this,” he said, showing her the steps slowly one more time. 

Clarke tried to focus on what he was doing, and not stare at his skillful hands. She had to learn this, and fast, otherwise Bellamy would never be willing to go for his dream trip. And she couldn’t be the one who held him back. 

Eight hours later, Clarke was sweaty and tired from standing. She had a whole new appreciation for all the hard work Bellamy put into this cafe, and somehow he even made it seem effortless. But she would never admit that she found this challenging - she wasn’t a quitter and she was determined to help her friend. 

Bellamy was showing Clarke how to shelve the books while Octavia manned the cafe counter, serving the customers. Alphabetical order by genre, now that made far more sense than any of the complicated coffee drinks Bellamy had taught her earlier. 

As he reached up to place a book on the top shelf, his shirt lifted just enough to give Clarke a peek at his waistline - at the tanned and chiselled skin that she longed to touch. 

Feeling her face flush as she stared, Clarke ripped her gaze away from ogling her best friend and turned her attention back to the stack of books in her hands. If only she hadn’t opened the door to her feelings for Bellamy that night weeks ago, maybe then she wouldn’t be staring at him like a lovesick fool every five minutes. 

“You know,” Bellamy said, breaking the silence between them, as he gently nudged her elbow with his. “I think this is the first time all day I’ve finally been able to think that this might work out.” 

“Yeah?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in his direction. Once she got the knack of the coffee machines, the rest of the training had been fairly smooth, and Clarke was confident she’d pick things up in no time. Plus, Octavia and the other part-time employees had already promised to help out as much as they could so Clarke wouldn’t be on her own. 

Bellamy shelved a book, sliding it into place on the new shelves they had built together last week. “Yeah. As much as it scares me to leave you and Octavia to run this place, I know you two will be fine.” 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Clarke teased, stepping closer to him to bump his shoulder. “We’ll miss you though, you know that right?” she added, glancing up at him. 

“I’ll miss you too.” Bellamy cleared his throat and added, “Both of you.” 

Clarke smiled, and once more hoped her face wasn’t flushed red. These damn feelings were becoming more and more inconvenient. 

\---

“Knock knock,” Clarke said, wandering into Bellamy’s bedroom a few weeks later, the day before his flight. 

“Oh hey, you’re here early,” Bellamy said, smiling over his shoulder, not even flustered by Clarke showing up in his room. He stood in front of his bed, which was covered with miscellaneous items yet to be packed and an open suitcase, half full of clothing. 

“Yeah, I packed up a few things to keep here and thought I’d bring it by early,” she answered, letting her duffel bag of extra clothes and toiletries fall to the floor as she climbed onto his bed and sat cross-legged, managing to find some free space. 

“Smart,” he said, adding a few more t-shirts to the pile. 

“Do you really need to bring all these books?” she asked, picking up some of the soft covers on the bed and flipping through them. The familiar titles were well worn, and Clarke recalled Bellamy reading them behind the cafe counter throughout the years, always eager to share his thoughts and insights with her as she studied or sketched. 

“It’s a writing course. We’re studying these books, so yes, I need them,” Bellamy answered, rolling his eyes, but in a fond and teasing way. 

“Ah, makes sense. I should’ve got you an e-reader then, instead of this,” she mused, pulling a gift wrapped box from behind her back and placing it in her lap. 

“Clarke, you didn’t have to get me _anything_ ,” he said softly, running a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “You’re already giving me your time and help with O and the cafe. I wouldn’t even be going if it weren’t for you.” 

She brushed off his argument with a nonchalant wave. “Maybe so, but I saw these and thought of you,” she answered, passing the box to him. 

Bellamy pushed aside a few books, an outlet converter, and a travel size umbrella to make enough room to sit on the bed beside her. His knee was pressed against hers, but Clarke didn’t move away. 

“Go on, open it,” she encouraged. 

He peeled off the wrapping paper and opened the box, lifting out a three-pack of patterned wool socks. 

“Socks?” Bellamy asked, raising an eyebrow at her. 

“What? I hear it rains all the time in England, and all those old stone buildings in Oxford are probably drafty. This way you won’t get cold feet,” Clarke bumped her shoulder against his, “In more ways than one.” 

Bellamy shook his head side to side at her bad joke, and pulled out the other gift item. It was a tie, in a shade of icy blue. 

He stroked his thumb across the soft material. “It’s the same colour as your eyes.”

“To help you look professional while you’re there, but also so you don’t forget about me,” Clarke explained, trying to ignore the heat she felt under his tender gaze. 

“You know I could never forget you, Clarke. You’re my best friend.” He put the gifts to the side and opened his arms, pulling her into a tight hug. 

“You’re my best friend too,” she echoed, her words muffled by his embrace, but she hugged him back all the same. “I’m going to miss you so much. You’d better text everyday, and send pictures too.” 

She felt Bellamy nod against her, not yet ready to let go of the hug. 

“I will,” he promised, hugging her for a moment longer and then sitting back. 

Clarke watched as he packed his new socks and tie right away, earning their place in his suitcase, despite the limited space simply because they were gifts from her. 

She shifted her legs underneath her, and picked up his passport from the top of a pile of important documents. Thumbing through the blank pages, Clarke felt her throat catch. All through high school, she and Bellamy had dreamed about going away and travelling the world, their bucket list a mile long. They had planned to go backpacking through Europe the summer after their first year away at college, and to South America the following summer. But those plans had obviously changed, and Bellamy had never used his passport once. And Clarke hadn’t had the heart to go on any of those trips without him. She was so proud of Bellamy for finally getting to pursue one of his dreams, yet she felt torn because it was like a piece of her own heart was getting on a plane and flying away. 

“I know, the picture is hilarious,” Bellamy muttered, breaking Clarke out of her thoughts as he took the passport out of her hands. 

“No, it’s not that,” Clarke said softly, her hair swinging side to side as she shook her head. “I know I just said it, but I’m really going to miss you. You better hope that the cafe is super busy so the days fly by.” 

Bellamy stood there, pausing for a moment, and then slowly reached his hand out. His palm was warm against her cheek as he carefully tucked her hair behind her ear. His voice was rough as he said, “I’m going to miss you like crazy too. But I’ll be home again soon, and it’ll be like nothing ever changed.” 

Clarke blinked up at him, smiling softly. Of course he would miss her too. And of course their friendship would never change. And maybe that fact hurt her heart more than his leaving in the first place. 

\---

The departure wing at the airport was bustling with people everywhere. After Bellamy checked his suitcase, Clarke held onto the crook of his elbow, so she wouldn’t lose him in the crowds. She was going to be losing him at the security gate anyway, so she didn’t want to waste the few minutes she had left to hold onto him. 

Seeing the departure board with his flight listed, it suddenly felt all too real to Clarke. Her best friend was flying across the ocean to pursue his dream, and she couldn’t be more proud of him. But Clarke wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him - or to run a cafe and parent a teenage Octavia for three months. 

“So, _ah_ , this is it,” Bellamy said, his voice catching as he stopped a few feet away from the security check line. 

“This is it,” Clarke echoed, standing in front of him, looking down and fiddling with the ring on her pinky finger.

He scratched the back of his head, and adjusted the strap of his messenger bag. Bellamy was nervous, but that made sense, as it would be his first time on a plane, and his first solo adventure. 

Clarke launched herself forward for a hug. His arms opened immediately to catch her and hold her close. “Have the best time ever,” she whispered, “And don’t worry about a thing here. Octavia will be fine.” 

“I know,” he said, and a shiver ran down her spine as his lips brushed the shell of her ear. 

“I know,” Bellamy said again, “Because she’s with you. You’re the only one I’d trust to watch her like this, you know that right?” 

Clarke nodded and hugged him tighter, not ready to let go. 

But then Bellamy reluctantly pulled away from the hug, and took a step away. 

“Text me, or call when you arrive, so I know you’re safe,” she said, words rushing out of her mouth as she willed herself not to cry. 

“Yeah, I will.” He ducked his head and fiddled with the strap on his bag, before looking back up. “Thanks again, Clarke. I never could have done this without you.”

She bit her lip, and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re welcome. Now go have the best adventure, okay?”

Bellamy nodded and smiled warmly at her. He turned on his heel and took two steps away, lifting his hand to wave. 

Clarke waved back, and tried to keep a smile on her face. All the while it felt like she couldn’t breathe as she watched him walk away. Her lungs felt like a dead weight in her chest, and her eyes were stinging with tears that she desperately tried to blink away. 

Suddenly, Bellamy stopped in his path, and turned around to face her. He stepped back toward her, quickly closing the distance between them. 

“You told me to trust my instincts,” he whispered, referencing her words from weeks ago. He reached up and cupped her face with his palms, his touch gentle. His eyes were full of wild excitement, and she couldn’t quite understand why. 

Clarke couldn’t breathe with Bellamy this close, but her hands instinctively moved toward him. She gripped the edges of his jacket, anchoring herself to him. 

Bellamy leaned closer and closer, until his lips met hers. 

It was a soft kiss, gentle, and full of promise. Full of years of love coming to fruition. 

And it was over far too soon. 

Bellamy pulled back, his lips curling up in an adoring smile, as his thumbs gently traced the curves of her cheeks. “I hope that was alright.”

Clarke’s own smile was instantaneous. Instead of replying with words, she stood up on her toes to kiss him again, using her grip on his jacket to pull him closer.

After what must have been minutes, but flew by like seconds, Clarke pulled away from the kiss to catch her breath. Bellamy stayed close though, leaning his forehead against hers, their noses brushing. 

“I have to go,” he whispered, his breath tickling her lips. 

“I know,” she murmured, lifting her hand to trace his jawline with her thumb. 

Sighing happily, Clarke added, “I’ve waited fifteen years for you to kiss me. I think I can survive three more months.” 

Bellamy’s eyes flashed with curiosity and desire at her revelation. “Clarke.”

She stood up on her tiptoes one more time and kissed him quickly on the lips. “Go. And then come home to me, and tell me all about it.”

“I like the sound of that, coming home to you,” he said after a small pause, and kissed her once more. He smiled sweetly, squeezing her hand, “I have a good feeling about this. About us.” 

Bellamy kissed her forehead one final time, and then stepped away, joining the queue of people waiting in the line for security. 

Clarke waited until Bellamy was out of sight, waving once more as he disappeared from view. 

As she walked back to her car, she let the tears flow freely. Tears of joy and sorrow. Bellamy was leaving her for three whole months. But he had kissed her, and she could only hope things would be changing between them once he returned. 

Clarke had finally kissed Bellamy Blake, her best friend and the man she’d loved for years, and she couldn’t wait to kiss him again once he came back home. She reminded herself of the words she had spoken to him, that she had waited for him for fifteen years, and that alone was proof she could survive the next three months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, they seem happy now, don't they? it'd be a shame for the angst to ratchet up in the next chapter, eh? 🙈
> 
> as always, come say hi on [tumblr!](https://bookwormforalways.tumblr.com/post/640414086505676800/if-my-wishes-came-true-a-bellarke-fic-by) 💜


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! thanks for all the love on the first chapter!  
> here's chapter two.... and I apologize in advance for the pain 💔(tbh I cried writing this).

It was a small miracle, but somehow, the next three months managed to pass by quickly. Clarke’s schedule had never been busier. Between managing the cafe, keeping an eye on Octavia, and trying to stay on top of her freelance design projects, Clarke barely had time to sleep at night. But every night, as she fell asleep in Bellamy’s room, she couldn’t help but smile at the calendar, as the number of days until Bellamy’s return grew smaller and smaller. 

Clarke missed Bellamy with every fibre of her being. They managed to find a few moments to chat on the phone or facetime quickly at least once a week, but Bellamy’s classes and heavy workload kept him just as busy. So between their crazy schedules, the time difference, and their need for sleep, Clarke and Bellamy only managed to share a few texts and pictures every day if they were lucky. 

But finally, after months apart, the day of Bellamy’s return to Ark Hill had arrived. 

“Clarke, the time’s not going to go by any faster if you keep staring at the clock,” Octavia teased, coming over to rest her elbows on the cafe counter beside Clarke. 

Sighing, Clarke dropped her head against Octavia’s shoulder. “I know. I don’t know why today is going by so slowly when the last few months flew by…”

“It’s because you’re excited,” Octavia wrapped an arm around Clarke’s waist, “And nervous.” 

Glancing up at the clock again, Clarke could have sworn that time was moving backwards. With a groan, she dropped her head on her arms, still leaning on top of the counter. 

“I don’t know why you’d be nervous though,” Octavia mused, busying herself tidying the mugs on the shelves. “You and Bell have loved each other for years, even if you never told each other. I don’t know why it took you guys so long to say anything, but I’m glad you finally did. It was getting kind of ridiculous.”

Standing straight again, Clarke rolled her eyes at Octavia, regretting telling her about the kiss in the first place. They weren’t related, but Clarke had been in the girl’s life since she was born, and helped take care of her ever since. In every way that counted, Octavia was already her little sister. And these past three months especially had brought the two closer together. Somehow their relationship had survived despite daily arguments about curfew and chores. 

With a teasing grin, Octavia added, “Just please don’t do the whole PDA thing at the airport. I love you both, but that’d just be,  _ ugh _ , gross.”

“Oh, shush,” Clarke whined, tossing a dish towel at the younger girl. 

Octavia caught the towel easily and snickered, heading for the kitchen to take the cookies out of the oven as the timer beeped. 

Clarke glanced up at the clock at the wall again, and as the seconds hand ticked by slowly, her nervous butterflies grew. 

While pining for Bellamy for fifteen years had been difficult, these last three months had been even worse somehow, knowing that they felt the same way, but were separated by an ocean. Now, only three more hours stood between Clarke and Bellamy reuniting at the airport. It was the longest they’d ever been apart. 

Three hours until Clarke could hold Bellamy, kiss him, and finally have the missing piece of her heart back.

\---

“O, can you turn that down?” Clarke asked, changing lanes on the highway. They were  _ finally _ on their way to the airport to pick up Bellamy, and approaching the exit soon. 

Octavia huffed, but reached out to turn down the radio anyway, before crossing her arms like the surly teenager she had become in the last two hours. Ever since Clarke had discovered Octavia had not been on her best behaviour in her brother’s absence, and had been taking advantage of Clarke’s exhausting schedule to sneak out after curfew to go to parties. Clarke also had a strong suspicion that Octavia was the reason the cafe was short a few bottles in the liquor cabinet, and it hadn’t been a delivery mistake like Octavia had claimed last week. 

“I can’t believe you’re really going to tell him,” Octavia whined, leaning her head against the window. 

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, Clarke stared through the front windshield, as the wipers flipped by on the highest interval. It was pouring rain, and the droplets splashed across the window, making it near impossible to see the road ahead. “I’m not talking about this with you again, right now, O. I need to focus. And what I said before still stands. Your brother asked me to watch you, and you took advantage. I won’t punish you, but I can’t  _ not _ tell him. He trusted me.”

“Clarke, come on, it was only a little party, and you never even noticed. If Niylah hadn’t opened her big fat mouth today, you’d never know.”

“Octavia,  _ enough _ ! I’m driving,” Clarke shot back, her voice harsh in the heat of the moment. 

“Fine,” Octavia sighed, slouching in the passenger seat and putting her feet up on the dash. “I thought you were supposed to be cool. I wanted you to be my friend, not my mother.”

Clarke gripped the steering wheel even tighter, her knuckles white against the dark leather. She couldn’t have this fight right now. She had to focus on the road, had to focus on arriving safely at the airport to meet Bellamy. They could wait out the storm there if necessary, and Clarke could explain what happened with Octavia, explain how she failed her babysitting duties. 

Taking a deep breath, Clarke concentrated on the road. Through the rainy haze, the sign for the airport exit came into view. She flicked on her signal, and after checking her blind spot over her shoulder, Clarke merged onto the exit ramp. 

The light ahead was green, so Clarke continued driving ahead. But she never saw the other car approaching from the right. It didn’t slow down, and blew right through the red light, crashing into the side of Clarke’s car. 

The sudden impact of the other car sent Clarke’s SUV spinning through the intersection on the slippery, wet roads. 

Tires screeched. Glass shattered. Metal crunched. 

Octavia’s screams filled Clarke’s ears. 

Clarke felt the cold, wet drops of rain falling through the broken windshield, splashing on her forehead and dripping down her cheek to her neck. The force of the airbag bursting open threw her against the back of the seat, and pain exploded across her skull. 

The pouring rain drumming on the car’s roof roared in her ears, drowning out the pounding in her head. 

And then everything faded to black. 

\---

Bellamy ran his hand through his hair, as he watched the baggage carousel spin lazily. He was thrilled to be back home in Ark Hill, and could not believe that after the three longest months of his life, only his stupid suitcase and a set of metal doors stood between him and Clarke. 

And his sister too, of course. It was the longest Bellamy had ever gone without seeing the two most important women in his life. 

He tapped his foot impatiently, scanning the assortment of bags falling down the chute, hoping to recognize his own. For a moment he wondered if he should just abandon his bag altogether, as seeing Clarke was more important than the books and clothes he could easily replace. But Octavia might just kill him if he lost the souvenirs he promised to purchase for her. 

After what felt like hours with his jet lag, Bellamy saw the familiar bag ahead, and pushed through the lingering crowd to grab it. The anxious excitement he’d felt for weeks coursed through his veins as he followed the signs to the arrivals floor. Seeing Clarke and talking to her only through the small screen on his phone over the last few months had been better than nothing, and had helped ease his homesickness, but it was nothing compared to being by her side. Bellamy had missed her lively friendship, as she sat across from him at the cafe, and he couldn’t wait for things to go back to normal - or rather, to discover what their new normal would be. 

Clarke had texted earlier, to let him know that she and Octavia had left the cafe already, giving herself plenty of time to beat any traffic, so he knew she would be on the other side of those doors. 

The automatic doors opened and Bellamy stepped into a flurry of activity. All around him he heard people calling out names in excitement, people running to hug their loved ones. He whipped his head side to side, staring out at the crowds, looking for two familiar faces. 

But he came up short. 

There was no one calling his name. There was no one running towards him for a hug. 

Bellamy had half expected Clarke to make some sort of cheesy welcome home sign, but that clearly wasn’t the case. 

Clarke and Octavia weren’t here. 

The weight of his disappointment was crushing, though he tried to reason that maybe they were running late parking the car, or they were stuck in traffic still. 

Pulling his suitcase over to a quieter spot in the hall, away from the immediate crowds, Bellamy fished out his phone from his pocket. His disappointment doubled when there were no new messages or notifications. 

He called Clarke, and the call rang and rang and rang, until her voicemail kicked in. So he tried Octavia next, and got her voicemail as well. 

Bellamy’s throat constricted and his chest felt tight as he began to panic. Something must be wrong - really, terribly wrong. 

He stared at his phone, useless in contacting the people he needed to see, and wondered what to do next. Before he could form any semblance of a plan, the device began to vibrate, as a call from an unknown number appeared. 

“Hello?” he answered, turning to stare at the blank wall behind him. 

“Hi, is this Bellamy Blake?” the curt voice on the other end of the line asked. 

Running his hand through his hair again, Bellamy replied. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Bellamy. I am sorry to call you like this, but there’s been an accident, and you’re listed as the emergency contact for both Octavia Blake and Clarke Griffin. We need you to come to Ark Hill Memorial Hospital immediately.”

His stomach plummeted, as the call confirmed his worst fears. Clarke was hurt. Octavia was in danger. And he wasn’t there to help them. 

“Bellamy? Are you there?” the voice asked, sounding more concerned than before. 

“I, uh- I’ll be right there. I’ll go get a cab,” he managed to say, his voice raspy. “Are- are they okay?”

“They’re alive. I’m afraid I can’t give you more details until you arrive,” the caller answered, her voice now slightly more empathetic. 

His hands shook as he tried to disconnect the call, after promising to be there as soon as he could. He was in shock. 

_ Shit! _ He had known accepting this offer to Oxford would be a terrible idea. And here was the proof. 

Somehow Bellamy managed to race outside, the suitcase wheels clacking incessantly over the tiles as he ran.

Bellamy found the line for the taxis and pushed his way to the front. As soon as the next car pulled up, he opened the door and shucked his suitcase and backpack into the backseat, stealing the car for himself. He tried to apologize to the poor woman he’d cut off, tried to explain that it was an emergency, that his sister was in the hospital. But the cab took off before he could finish talking, and the driver confirmed that the destination was the hospital. 

As the heavy rain pounded against the cab’s windows, Bellamy’s heart sank. Today was supposed to be a happy day. He was supposed to reunite with his sister and Clarke. And his wishes and dreams of showing Clarke just how much he truly loved her were supposed to  _ finally _ come true. 

But now - now nothing was right, and nothing would be right until he knew that his little sister was alive and healthy.

\---

Clarke woke up to bright lights, a killer headache, and a beeping noise that wouldn’t go away.

“Hey, Clarke, you’re awake,” a soft voice greeted her. 

She tried to turn her head toward the sound, but a jolt of pain shot through her, radiating from her skull to her fingertips and all the way to her toes. She felt bruised and battered all over. 

“Careful, please. Don’t try to move,” the same voice said, as a man with a beard and white coat stepped into her view. “My name is Dr. Nyko, and you’re at the hospital. You were in a car accident, and you hit your head.”

“Accident?” Clarke whispered, her hand flying to her head, and her fingers brushing the unfamiliar texture of bandages. Despite the doctor’s warning, she tried to sit up further, but the pain stopped her movements. “Octavia? Where is she?”

The doctor smiled gently, reaching out to squeeze her hand in comfort. “It’s alright, Miss Griffin. Your friend is alive. However, she suffered the worst of the impact, and is currently in emergency surgery.”

Clarke gasped, and felt hot tears trickle down her cheeks. Octavia was in surgery - Octavia had almost  _ died _ \- and it was all Clarke’s fault. 

The doctor pulled a pen light from his pocket, and shone the bright light toward Clarke’s eyes. As he observed her reaction, he spoke, “She’ll be okay. We called your emergency contact, Mr. Blake. He’s on his way now, for you and his sister.”

Her breath caught, half in relief that Bellamy was on his way, and half scared that he was going to be mad at her. A shaky breath escaped her lips. 

“You’ll tell me if Octavia’s okay? She’s my sister, I can’t let anything bad happen to her,” Clarke whispered, pleading with the doctor. 

“Your sister?” The doctor’s brow furrowed for a moment. “Ah, are you and Mr. Blake…?”

Clarke nodded, confirming that she and Bellamy were in a relationship. She meant to say that Octavia was  _ like _ a sister, but she figured it was okay to fib a little, even though she and Bellamy had never discussed the status of their relationship yet. 

“Alright, then, I’ll keep you updated on your sister once I know more,” Dr. Nyko said kindly, stepping toward the door. “I’ll send a nurse in to check you over now. And I’ll let the receptionist know to send your husband here when he arrives.”

_ Husband? _ The doctor must have assumed, but he left before Clarke could correct him. 

Lying back down against the pillow, Clarke closed her eyes, and tried wiping the tears from her cheeks. She prayed that Octavia would be okay. 

\---

Bellamy collapsed in the waiting room chair at the hospital, covering his face with his hands as he sobbed - both in relief that Octavia would be okay, and heartbroken that he couldn’t see her quite yet. And his jet-lagged exhaustion didn’t help either. 

The doctor had explained that his sister would be okay. Octavia had required immediate surgery after the impact of the crash caused internal bleeding. They had removed her spleen, and fixed her dislocated shoulder. She would need physical therapy for her broken collar bone and injured shoulder, but his sister would really and truly be okay. Despite Bellamy’s worst fears, Octavia was alive. 

“Mr. Blake, let me take you to Clarke’s room, you must be worried about her too,” a nurse offered, beckoning him to follow her down the hall. 

Bellamy stood up and hastily wiped the tears from his eyes. 

He had been so excited to see Clarke earlier. But Octavia’s wellbeing had been his entire focus for the last sixteen years, and he’d quickly fallen into old habits of worrying about his sister first and foremost. Somehow, in the midst of the chaos and his own exhaustion, Bellamy had forgotten that Clarke was injured too. 

The nurse paused in front of a door and pointed inside. “Clarke’s in here. I’ll come find you when I have news about your sister, but for now, you can wait with your wife.”

He muttered a quick thank you, as he pushed the door open. It wasn’t until he saw Clarke’s blonde hair and blue eyes that he registered that the nurse had said his  _ wife _ . Bellamy couldn’t worry about that now, it must be a misunderstanding anyway, so he brushed the thought away. 

“Clarke?” he asked, stepping inside her room, closer to her bed. 

She smiled weakly up at him, “Hey, stranger.” Her hair was matted and frizzy, still damp from the rain, her make up smudged around her eyes from the tears, and tiny red scratches covered her face and arms. 

Bellamy sat down on the bed next to her, and picked up her hand, holding it tightly between his palms. “You okay?” 

Clarke nodded, “Just a few stitches and possible concussion. And a few more scrapes and bruises.” 

She paused and bit her lip, dropping her eyes away from his. “I’m so sorry, Bell. I should have been more careful driving. I never meant to let Octavia get hurt. But the roads were so bad, with the rain. The doctor said she’ll be okay, but- but, I really am sorry.”

He closed his eyes, ducking his head and trying to hold back the tears. It was Clarke sitting in front of him, his best friend, easily recognizable. But in his anger and fear and exhaustion, all Bellamy could see was the person who had caused the accident that had almost ripped his sister’s life away. 

Octavia was his whole life, her happiness and well-being his only purpose - and that had almost been torn away.

“Clarke, she could have been killed,” Bellamy finally said, swallowing the emotion in his throat. 

“I know!” Clarke squeezed his hand with hers. “I said I was sorry, Bell. I didn’t mean to hurt her. The other car came out of nowhere, and ran the light. And the rain was so bad, and-”

“Stop,” he cut her off. “I’m glad you’re okay. But, I- I just can’t- not right now. Not until I’ve seen O, and know she’s really okay.”

A single tear fell from her eye, sliding along her cheek, and dropping to the bed sheet below. 

In another life, Bellamy would race to comfort her, and wipe away her tears with his thumb, cradling her face. In another life, he would gather Clarke in his arms, thankful she was okay. That was the life Bellamy thought he was returning home to. That was the life where he would be the person to kiss away her pain.

But that was a life Bellamy couldn’t experience, or let himself imagine any longer. Not when Octavia had to be his first and only priority. 

“I’m, uh- I’m going to wait for O. The doctor said she’s almost out of surgery,” he explained. Bellamy squeezed Clarke’s hand once more before releasing his grip and standing up. 

“I’ll call Harper, and ask her to come pick you up,” he said softly, turning his back to her. 

“Bell,” Clarke called, her voice breaking in anguish. 

He glanced over his shoulder and saw the heartbreak on her face, her arm outstretched toward him. 

But Bellamy turned back toward the door, shaking his head. 

He could apologize to Clarke later. And besides, she would be okay without him, as her injuries weren’t as serious. But Octavia - his sister needed him. 

\---

The next morning, Clarke arrived at the hospital as soon as visiting hours were allowed. After clearing up the administrative details with a nurse the previous night, and explaining the fact that she and Bellamy were  _ not _ married, they had finally released Clarke into Harper’s gentle care. 

Clarke’s head and neck were sore from the accident, but it was nothing compared to the pain she felt in her heart. Pain that was doubled as she stepped inside Octavia’s room and saw Bellamy there, exhausted, and bent over his sister’s bedside. Because it was all her fault. 

“Bellamy? Hey, I brought you coffee,” she said softly, to announce her presence. 

His eyes were red and bloodshot when he looked over, and she wondered if he’d slept at all. 

Wordlessly he accepted the hot coffee from her, careful to keep their hands from touching. She passed him a muffin as well, knowing he wouldn’t have left Octavia’s bedside for anything, not even food. 

“How is she?” Clarke asked, placing the flowers she’d bought on the night table. They were red, Octavia’s favourite colour. 

“The doctor said the surgery went well, but…” Bellamy's voice cracked as he spoke. “But she hasn’t woken up yet. They said she’ll be fine and wake up soon, but until she does… I need her to be okay. She has to be. She’s all I have left.”

“She will, Bell. Octavia will be okay,” Clarke said, taking a seat on the opposite side of Octavia’s bed. Clarke wanted to argue with Bellamy, to insist that no matter what happened, he would always have her. But he was already mad at her, so it wasn’t worth the fight. Instead, Clarke tried to reassure him. “She’s tough, a fighter.”

Bellamy nodded at her words, but stayed quiet, taking a sip of the coffee instead. 

After a few moments of awkward silence, Clarke finally spoke up again. “It’s good to have you home, Bell. I really missed you. We- uh, Octavia and I both really missed you.”

He looked up, his eyes haunted as they caught hers. He tried to speak, but a quiet roar erupted from his chest. The chair squeaked across the floor as he stood abruptly. “Clarke, I  _ trusted _ you to watch her. And you let this happen? She almost  _ died _ because of you!”

Clarke fought back hot tears, and squeezed her hands into fists. “I’m sorry, Bell! I am! I love her too, okay. It kills me to see her like this.”

“No. No, you don’t get to say that,” Bellamy whirled around to face her, his eyes wild and his finger in an accusing point. “She’s  _ my _ sister. Not yours. I gave up  _ everything _ to raise her, and you- you tried okay. It was a good effort. But it wasn’t good enough. I thought I could trust you, and fuck, I was wrong.”

“Bell, I- You know she’s like a sister to me, too-”

“No, I really don’t want to hear it, Clarke,” he said sharply, cutting her off as he raised his hand, his palm a silent signal that this conversation was over. 

Clarke’s shoulders slumped as she shrank into herself at his cruel words. Tears tracked down her face, dripping from her chin and leaving damp spots on her shirt. She tried to reason that he was emotional and exhausted and rightfully upset, which is why he wasn’t thinking straight. The Bellamy she knew and loved would  _ never _ say these things to her. 

Bellamy stood behind the chair, leaning his hands against the backrest. He exhaled sharply, and spoke slowly, all while keeping his eyes down, unwilling to meet her stare. “You should go, Clarke. I can’t have you here right now. Thank you for the coffee, but you have to go.”

She nodded, honouring his request. Using her sleeve, she wiped the tears from her face, took a shaky breath. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll go.” 

Quickly she packed up her things, purposefully leaving the extra muffins and sandwiches behind knowing Bellamy would eat them later. 

He returned to his seat, and leaned his elbows on the edge of Octavia’s bed, clasping his sister’s hand in his own. 

At the door, Clarke paused. “Text me, please, once Octavia wakes up. I want to know she’s okay. Please.”

Bellamy’s shoulders shook slightly, and Clarke knew he was barely keeping it together. All she wanted to do was wrap him in a hug and try to convince him everything would be okay. 

But apparently having her around was the last thing he needed right now. 

Finally, he whispered his agreement, and Clarke left the room, leaving behind the man she loved who no longer loved her, and his sister who she’d almost killed. 

She had initially planned to spend the day with Bellamy at the hospital, and asked Niylah to pick up an extra shift at the cafe. But now, the least Clarke could do was return to the cafe and keep it open and running another day. And she should probably call her insurance agency, and begin the process of claiming her car. If she kept her hands and mind busy, she wouldn’t spend the whole day worrying. 

Clarke stepped out of the elevator on the bottom floor and began digging her phone out of her purse to call an uber when she realized she’d forgotten the welcome home gift she had for Bellamy. She’d meant to give it to him yesterday at the airport, if all had gone according to plan. But with one accident, all of Clarke’s plans were destroyed, and in one fell swoop, it killed her dreams as well. 

Taking a deep breath, Clarke stepped back into the elevator. Maybe Bellamy didn’t want to see her right now, but she wanted to give him the gift, to remind him of the happier times they’d left behind. Maybe it would be one step closer to earning his forgiveness. 

Back on the correct floor, Clarke walked back toward Octavia’s room, but paused outside the door at the last second once she heard voices talking in the room. 

“I know this is a difficult time to have this conversation, Mr. Blake, but your insurance plan won’t cover the cost of your sister’s surgery, let alone her stay for recovery. And that’s not even taking into account the physical therapy she’ll require for her shoulder.”

Clarke heard Bellamy’s quiet sigh. It was a sigh of defeat, and she didn’t know how much more bad news he could handle before he completely crumbled. Money had always been tight for Bellamy and Octavia, which was why Bellamy had never left his job at Kane’s Cafe, and one of the reasons he almost hadn’t accepted the course in Oxford. It was Clarke’s fault for pushing him toward that as well. 

“How much do I need to come up with?” Bellamy asked, his voice hollow. 

The accountant answered with a number that shocked Clarke, her hand flying to her mouth to cover the sound of her gasp. Octavia had almost  _ died _ , and the hospital wanted an enormous sum of money in exchange for the teen’s life. Clarke was certain Bellamy would never be able to come up with a payment plan for that amount, and even if he did, he’d be in debt for the rest of his life. 

“I don’t have that kind of money,” Bellamy said, his pride wounded. “What can we do?”

The accountant began to explain some of the hospital’s different payment assistance plans. But Clarke couldn’t take anymore. Pulling the small gift from her purse, she leaned the wrapped package against Octavia’s door where someone would find it and push it in Bellamy’s direction. Spinning on her heel, Clarke marched down the hall toward the elevator, en route to the offices on the ground floor. 

It was Clarke’s fault that Bellamy had gone on the trip to Oxford in the first place, using up most of his savings after she had convinced him to go. And it was Clarke’s fault that Octavia had been in the accident, as Clarke had been driving after all. And it was Clarke’s fault that her best friend couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her anymore. 

Clarke had to do something. 

Luckily, the perfect plan came to mind. Bellamy would never ask her for help, and if Clarke offered any assistance he’d say no immediately. But in this case, it would be better to ask for forgiveness, rather than permission. Which meant that Clarke had a trust fund to access and an exorbitant medical bill to pay. 

\---

Bellamy finally dozed off with his head resting against Octavia’s blankets. He knew he’d pay for it with a crick in his neck, but he just needed to close his eyes.

He couldn’t handle anything else right now, especially after he’d found out how much he owed the hospital for his sister’s surgery. 

It was all his fault for going away. Bellamy knew he should have thrown away the Oxford acceptance letter as soon as it arrived. He probably should never have even applied in the first place. 

And he never should have let Clarke talk him into going, into doing something so ridiculously selfish. If he hadn’t gone away, Octavia wouldn’t be lying broken in a hospital bed after emergency surgery, he and Clarke might still be friends and maybe something more, and his savings account wouldn’t be so empty. 

_ Shit _ , he was screwed. It was all too much, so Bellamy closed his eyes, escaping from the world for a few stolen minutes of reprieve.

A repeated prodding and poking sensation pulled him out of sleep. Bellamy blinked his eyes open, still exhausted and groggy. 

And found his sister’s green eyes staring back at him. “Bell?” she whispered. “What’s going on?”

“O! You’re awake! You’re okay!” Bellamy jumped up and kissed her head, his hand cupping her chin. 

He was in disbelief that she was really okay. Maybe this was all a fever dream, caused by his insane level of jet-lagged exhaustion, stress, and anxiety.

Octavia pulled his hand from her face, and narrowed her eyes at him. “What happened to me?” she demanded, bringing him back to the present moment.

Bellamy sat back down in his chair and leaned back, rubbing his jaw. “You were in a car accident, and had to have emergency surgery. You dislocated your shoulder, broke your collarbone, and ruptured your spleen, so they had to remove it.”

“Fuck,” Octavia swore, using her good hand to trace the bandages and sling over her shoulder, inspecting the damage. 

Suddenly her eyes widened and she turned back to Bellamy. “Shit, is Clarke okay?”

He pressed his fingers together, and breathed out slowly through his nose, “Yeah, she’s fine. Walked away with a few stitches.”

Octavia was visibly relieved at the news, but lifted her eyes, scanning the room. “She’s not here? Where is she?”

“No, she,  _ ah _ , had to leave.” Bellamy murmured, dropping his eyes to the floor. “But she stopped by to bring you some flowers.”

When he looked up, his sister was watching him curiously. “Did something happen between you two? The Clarke I know would be here. The only way she wouldn’t be here is if you told her to leave.” Octavia groaned, “Bell, what the fuck did you do?”

Exhaling sharply, Bellamy retorted, “Fine. We fought okay? She almost killed you, O! I trusted her to take care of you, and she almost let you die.”

Octavia narrowed her gaze at him. “You’re an ass, Bell. A stupid ass.  _ Shit! _ ”

Bellamy stayed quiet and narrowed his eyes, daring his sister to explain. 

She ran her free hand through her hair, and groaned. “Seriously, Bell? That girl has been in love with you for years, and would do anything for you or for me. You should have seen Clarke these last few months, she was so excited for you to come home today because she missed you  _ so damn much _ . And it was a fuckin’ car accident! It’s not like she did it on purpose-”

“Yeah, but,” Bellamy tried to interject, but Octavia wagged her finger at him. 

“No, buts. Accidents happen, Bell! Especially when it’s a torrential downpour. Plus, if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine for pestering her while she was driving. I distracted her.”

Bellamy opened his mouth to reply, but no words came to him, so he shut his jaw with a click. He shook his head, trying to make sense of this new information Octavia had dumped on him. Really, it was nothing new, but somehow all the facts made more sense when Octavia shouted them out loud. 

Because Octavia was alive. 

And it really was an accident. 

Clarke would never have done this on purpose. She truly loved him and Octavia too. And of fucking course Bellamy had yelled at Clarke, blaming his best friend for the unthinkable. 

“Shit,” he swore, scrubbing his hands over his face, his overgrown stubble scratching his palms roughly. 

“See, you’re an ass. I was right,” Octavia mused, though her voice was teasing in nature. 

“She hates me now,” Bellamy admitted. 

Octavia rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t think Clarke could ever hate you. She’s loved you for far too long to let something as silly as you being this dumb push her away.”

Before Bellamy could tell his sister off for her unnecessary comment, a knock sounded on the door, catching his attention. 

It was the same woman, the hospital accountant who had come by before. Only this time, instead of wearing a look of sympathy, she now smiled widely. 

“Hi again, Mr. Blake, and Miss Blake, good to see you awake too. I hope you’re feeling alright,” she said, a little too cheerfully. 

“Can we help you?” Bellamy asked reluctantly, wondering why this lady was back so soon, and how much trouble he would be in if he slapped the stupid grin from her face. 

“Actually, I’m just here to give you a copy of your receipt for your records,” she said, handing Bellamy an envelope. “It looks like everything’s been taken care of.”

“What?” Bellamy began to ask, dumbfounded, as he unfolded the paper. 

On the paper, lines of medical expenses were listed, the fees totalling up to that enormous fee. But after that amount, there was a payment made an hour earlier, and somehow the numbers balanced down to zero. The debt was paid in full. 

“Well, I’ll be off. Take care, and I wish you a speedy recovery Miss Blake,” the accountant said, turning to leave the room. 

Bellamy sat still, frozen in shock, as he stared at the receipt. Octavia’s entire medical bill had been paid completely. He couldn’t even comprehend having that much money to his name, let alone being able to pay a bill of this size in one payment. 

But he did know someone who could, a certain someone who had inherited a hefty trust fund a few years back. A certain someone he had yelled at, and should definitely hate him for that. 

“Oh, this was left by the door. It has your name on it,” the accountant said, popping back into the room to pass him a small parcel, before saying goodbye once more. 

“What’s that? And what’s going on, Bell? Tell me. What’s wrong?” Octavia asked, sitting up in her bed to peer at him. 

The parcel has his name written across it, in Clarke’s handwriting. She had left it at the door, and she must have overheard his earlier conversation with the accountant and taken matters into her own hands. And Clarke had done all this after he had yelled at her, and blamed her for hurting Octavia. 

“Nothing’s wrong, O. Not really,” he managed to say, his exhausted eyes brimming with tears once more. But really, everything was wrong if Clarke thought he hated her. And now Bellamy owed her an insurmountable debt, one he could never repay.

Carefully he peeled open the craft paper, and pulled the wrapping away to reveal a small picture frame. Inside was a drawing that Clarke had done, of the three of them - herself, Bellamy, and Octavia - standing behind the cafe counter, complete with their aprons and mugs of coffee. The illustrated version of them looked happy - they looked like a family. 

The picture looked like everything Bellamy had hoped they could become, before he had gone and screwed it all up. 

Bellamy knew he had to fix things, but he had no idea where to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone need a hug? a shoulder to cry on?  
> and come say hi on [tumblr!](https://bookwormforalways.tumblr.com/post/640414086505676800/if-my-wishes-came-true-a-bellarke-fic-by)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go, chapter 3! 🎉

Two days later, Octavia was discharged from the hospital. As Bellamy helped his sister into the cab, he felt a guilty weight in his chest and surreptitiously glanced over his shoulder at the hospital. He still couldn’t believe that Clarke had paid off the medical bill in full. It made him feel like he was stealing something as he left the hospital. 

As the cab weaved through the streets of Ark Hill, Bellamy resolved to do two things. One, he had to apologize to Clarke, and two, he had to pay her back. He couldn’t be in her debt. 

Though he’d been back in Ark Hill for almost three days now, Bellamy still hadn’t been home, never leaving his sister’s side in the hospital. Luckily he’d had clean clothes in his suitcase. As Kane’s Cafe came into view, he felt a wisp of homesickness and the sudden relief to be home. And a sudden desire for things to go back to normal - back before his trip, before Octavia was injured, before he’d destroyed his friendship with Clarke. 

Bellamy tried to help Octavia out of the cab, but his sister was fiercely independent, leaving him to carry their bags inside as she raced ahead. The familiar bell chimed over the door as they entered the cafe, and the pleasant smell of coffee, pastries, and books welcomed him home. 

“Clarke!” his sister screeched, moving quickly behind the counter, as fast as her injuries would allow. 

By the time Bellamy caught up, he saw Octavia and Clarke hugging each other tightly. This sight tugged at his heart strings for all the wrong reasons. 

Clarke cupped Octavia’s face gently, “Octavia, I’m so sorry this happened, I- I can’t apologize enough-”

Octavia shook her head, interrupting Clarke. “No, it wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. And I’m okay, I’ll be fine.” Octavia squeezed Clarke’s hand in reassurance. “How are  _ you _ ? Bell just said you were fine, but wouldn’t tell me more.”

Bellamy felt acid in the pit of his stomach as Clarke’s eyes flickered over to him. Still holding their bags, he stood in place as if his feet were frozen to the floor. He felt unshakeable guilt, haunted by her stare, knowing he’d betrayed her. 

“I’m okay, O, really. I was just so worried about you,” Clarke answered, hugging Octavia carefully again, and placing a sweet kiss on her temple. 

After assuring each other that they were really alright, Octavia stepped up the stairs to go lie down in her own bed. Bellamy took that cue to start carrying his own bags up the stairs as well, but stopped in place under Clarke’s careful eyes. 

“So, you’re back?” she asked timidly.

“Yeah. You’re still here?” Bellamy asked, glancing around the cafe as he voiced the one question that had been at the forefront of his mind since he stepped inside and saw Clarke behind the counter. 

She shrugged slightly, stuffing her hands into her apron pockets. “Well, I figured keeping this place running was the least I could do.”

“The least? Clarke,” Bellamy sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, simultaneously realizing that he had no idea how to thank Clarke for her generosity and that he desperately needed a shower. “I, uh, I know about the bill, that you paid-”

Clarke’s eyebrows lifted in surprise but she quickly brushed him off, throwing a tea towel over her shoulder. “We can talk about that later. I have customers, and you need a shower. And a nap. Go.”

Abruptly, she turned on her heel and back to the register without giving him time to argue or even say anything at all. 

So instead he carried his weary body up the stairs for a quick shower and well-deserved nap. 

\---

At nine o’clock, Clarke locked the door and flipped the ‘Open’ sign around to show they were closed. With a sigh, she turned off half of the lights in the cafe. It was second nature now, running through the closing routine - filling the dishwasher, cleaning the coffee machines, stacking the chairs, and sweeping the floor. 

She glanced up at the staircase, the one leading to the Blake’s apartment. It had been her home base for the last three months, but now was uncharted territory. Octavia had come down a few hours ago, starving and desperate for food. Clarke had set her up with a hearty sandwich and soup, and packed up some leftovers for Octavia to bring upstairs, as Bellamy was still asleep. 

Everything was such a mess. A few months ago, things were good, when Clarke and Bellamy were just friends and kept their feelings in the dark. Back when their biggest worry was the small business association party, and Echo and her rude remarks. And a few days ago, things were great, as Clarke eagerly awaited their reunion at the airport. But now, now everything was a mess. Octavia had almost died, and Bellamy hated Clarke for it. 

Clarke stuffed a few day old pastries in her bag, and made a tea to go, which would be fuel for the next few hours spent hunched over her illustrations. She hadn’t planned on working the extra days at the cafe, so she was even more behind on her projects. She zipped up her coat and headed toward the door. With her hand poised to flick off the final lights, she took a final glance up at the apartment that was home to the person she recognized as her best friend, even if he wasn’t acting like it. 

And then she heard footsteps. 

“Clarke?” Bellamy descended the stairs, wiping his eyes with his hands. His hair was in complete disarray and it was clear he’d just woken up from his sweatpants and rumpled t-shirt. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, well, the cafe’s closed. Figured I’d go home and do some work. Unless you need help with something? Is Octavia okay?”

Bellamy leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “No, she’s fine.” He glanced around the cafe, “Thanks for staying here today, and keeping things running. I’ll take over again tomorrow, so you can sleep in.”

Clarke shrugged, and offered him a small smile. “Would you believe I’ve actually gotten used to waking up early?”

A gentle smile crossed his face, and his teasing reply came out of habit, “I’d have to see it to believe it.” 

Fiddling with the cup of tea in her hand, Clarke bit her lip. “Did you want me to stay for a bit, or should I go?”

“Oh, I don’t want to keep you, you’ve been here long enough,” Bellamy answered in a hurry. “But maybe we can talk tomorrow?”

As much as Clarke had been hoping Bellamy would ask her to stay, she couldn’t help but feel relieved that he’d offered her an out. Frankly, she was tired and did not want to fight with him. 

“Sounds like a plan. Let me know when you’ll be free, and you can tell me all about your trip, okay? I know the last few days messed everything up, but I still want to hear all about Oxford, and your book.”

“Yeah, okay,” Bellamy agreed, uncrossing his arms and taking a step away from the counter. 

For a split second, Clarke assumed he was coming to give her a hug. The reunion hug that the accident had stolen from them. 

But he wrung his hands together in a movement that seemed unnatural and awkward, as if he were physically stopping himself from reaching out to her. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Clarke.”

“Night, Bell,” she answered, hoping her disappointment wasn’t evident in her voice and pushed the door open, locking it behind her. 

Clarke walked down the sidewalk in the direction of her apartment, and let the cool night air brush away her tears. 

\---

True to his word, Bellamy contacted her the next day, asking to meet at the cafe after he closed. Clarke spent the whole day feeling untethered. For the last three months she’d been run off her feet managing the cafe and her design business, all while trying to keep track of Octavia. She had a purpose then. But now, she was awake early and didn’t have the heart to focus on her illustrations, no matter how behind she was. 

Somehow the day passed by, and after the sun had set over Ark Hill, Clarke let herself into the cafe. The familiar bell chimed overhead, announcing her presence, and her eyes immediately glued to the man behind the counter. Bellamy smiled at her arrival, and motioned for her to sit. He’d already set out a glass of wine in her spot as a peace offering. 

“Hey, how are you? Did you finally catch up on your sleep, or are you still jet-lagged?” she asked, sitting on her stool and resting her elbows on the countertop. 

Bellamy was sealing pastries into tupperware containers so they would keep for the next day, but still managed to roll his eyes at her. “Ah, I could use another nap. Pulling an all-nighter at a hospital after a trans-atlantic flight is definitely not recommended.”

Clarke exhaled sharply at his words. She expected him to bring up the accident at some point tonight, but not right away. And she never expected his words to cut her heart so deeply. 

Desperately, she tried to change the subject. “So, tell me everything. Did you finish your book? What did your mentor say? And I want to see more pictures of Oxford.”

With an easy grin, Bellamy excitedly shared that he did finish his manuscript. He had received excellent feedback from peer reviews. And the best news of all, was that his mentor was contacting agents, and looking to start the process of reaching out for a book deal.

“That’s amazing, Bell! I’m so proud of you!” Clarke praised, spinning the wine glass in front of her. “When will you hear back from them?”

Bellamy opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed his mouth quickly, focusing his attention on the mugs in his hands as he tidied up. Then he reached up to run his hand through his hair, clearly nervous about answering. 

“They already reached out,” Bellamy finally said, placing the mugs in the dishwasher. “But I missed the call, at the hospital. And after everything that happened, I just need to make sure Octavia’s okay before I worry about anything else, the book can wait, it’s not going anywhere. I- I still can’t believe she almost died.”

“I said I was sorry, Bell. You have to believe me,” Clarke whispered, bracing her hands on the counter as she pleaded with him. 

Bellamy stepped away from his task, moving to his place across the counter from her. With his palms flat on the countertop, only inches from her own hands, Bellamy held her stare. “I know, it was an accident, Clarke, I do,” he admitted. “But it scared the shit out of me, to see O like that?” 

Covering his face with one hand, he sighed, and rubbed his cheek. He met her eyes with a shy stare, “I’m sorry I overreacted at the hospital. I’m sorry I yelled and blamed you. I know you love Octavia too much to let anything happen to her.”

A few tears threatened to spill with her relief, so Clarke quickly wiped her eyes and then placed her hand tentatively over his, ignoring the spark in her veins that ignited from his touch. 

“Thank you. I know it wasn’t the homecoming you were expecting,” she began, trying to figure out what she wanted to say next. She wondered what words could convey how sorry she felt and repair their friendship at the same time. 

He shook his head slowly, “No, not what I imagined at all. But, about us?”

She met his gaze, but stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue, sensing he had more to say. 

“I know we both expected there to be an us when I got back, after that kiss. But,” Bellamy paused, looking down at their hands, “I can’t do that right now. I need more time to deal with everything. I hope you can understand.”

Clarke nodded, and squeezed his hand, “Of course, Bell. Take all the time you need. But I’m here for you, whenever you need me. We’re friends first, no matter what.”

Bellamy nodded, and then pulled his hand away from hers, bracing his hands on his hips. “I got your gift, by the way, the picture,” he blurted out. And it was as if he’d pulled the plug on his thoughts, as words continued to spill from his lips. “And the receipt from the hospital. Clarke, that was insane. You didn’t need to do that. You shouldn’t have done that!”

Running a hand through her hair, Clarke slowly exhaled. “So I should have let my best friend bury himself in debt for the rest of his life? I know money can’t fix everything, but it fixed that. Octavia’s like a sister to me too, and I wanted to help. I had the money to help.”

“It wasn’t your place to help!” he shot back. 

Meeting his stare, Clarke rose off her stool and crossed her arms. “Then what is my place?! I thought I was your best friend, but friends don’t treat each other like this. If I had known it was going to be like this, I wish you’d never kissed me at the airport. I wish we could take that back. It hurts too much now.”

Bellamy’s hands balled into fists at his sides and his shoulders tensed. “Well, you shouldn’t have fucking pushed me to fly halfway across the world and abandon my sister. But I should have known. You wanted me to be selfish because that’s all you know. You want this to be all about you, which is why you paid the damn bill - so you could be the hero. Because you know I’ll never be able to pay that back. So you own me now, are you happy?”

Clarke’s hands flew to her scalp and dug through her hair in exasperation, as she gritted her teeth. How could he be so infuriating and so damn wrong?! That wasn’t her intention at all. “You know damn well that’s not what I want, Bellamy!”

“Then what the fuck do you want?!” Bellamy asked, his voice menacing, seething with hurt and anger.

“Well that’s the real question, isn’t it. I thought I wanted  _ you _ , Bellamy, but now? Now I’m not so sure about that anymore.” Clarke grabbed her bag off of the counter and threw it across her shoulder. Without taking a look back, she marched to the door and flung it open, leaving Bellamy behind. The bell above the door echoed eerily as Clarke walked away, down the quiet street. 

\---

Even though Clarke purposefully avoided Kane’s Cafe, it still felt like Bellamy was everywhere in Ark Hill. When she passed the high school, all she could think about was how they used to spend their lunch breaks laughing on the bleachers years ago when they were teenagers. The walk through the park was supposed to clear her head, but all she could remember is how much she laughed with Bellamy as they taught a four year old Octavia to ride a bike without training wheels. 

She’d started going to the local Starbucks for coffee instead, Bellamy’s direct competition. But the coffee wasn’t as great and left a bitter taste in her mouth - almost as bitter as the memories of their favourite movie theater next door that they always went to on the last Tuesday each month for half-priced admission. 

And every time Clarke was reminded of Bellamy, her heart broke a little bit more. And she wasn’t sure how much more pain she could handle. 

Bellamy and Ark Hill were one and the same. And if Clarke wanted to avoid Bellamy, then she’d have to leave town. 

It was this heartbreaking realization that made Clarke pull out her phone, and scroll through her contacts, dialling a number she never thought she’d need. With a single conversation, Clarke accepted a job offer she’d refused years before and made plans to leave Ark Hill for good. 

\---

Without Clarke in his life, everything felt off balance to Bellamy. While his day to day routine fell back into place at the cafe, work now seemed boring and uneventful. He quickly realized that the only differing factor was the absence of a beautiful and snarky blonde sitting at the counter, keeping him company. 

He’d instantly regretted the words he’d said to Clarke that night, and the way he’d reacted in anger. It wasn’t fair to keep blaming his actions on his exhaustion, and jet-lag, and worry for his sister. And while Bellamy desperately needed sleep, he was kept awake at night, tossing and turning as he worried about Clarke and wondered how to make things right again. Bellamy wanted to apologize to Clarke, but it seemed every time he tried, he said the wrong damn thing. It had made things even worse, and now Clarke was avoiding him. 

Octavia continued to call him out on his mopey state, saying her life was bad enough having to sit out this volleyball season without Bellamy’s weird depressive face. Almost daily, Octavia told him to go talk to Clarke, to apologize and make things right. And every day, Bellamy tried to shut his sister up before she continued her sentence to include how he and Clarke should ‘make up, then make out, and then make babies’. 

Clarke’s absence had even taken the joy out of writing. After the positive feedback from his mentor through the writing workshop, Bellamy had been slowly making his way through the editing notes. Only a few days before, Bellamy had been excited to make these updates to his completed manuscript. But now, every time he opened the document on his laptop, Bellamy felt his heart splinter as his eyes read the words at the very beginning, the dedication: 

_ For Clarke,  _

_ Thank you for pushing me to pursue my dreams. Because of you, all my wishes are coming true.  _

He’d written those words during his first week in Oxford, as he sat in the historic Bodleian Library, surrounded by the ancient books and ceaseless knowledge. But now, the awe had faded from those letters, and all he saw was heartbreak. 

Bellamy had to make things right with Clarke. He missed her too damn much to let her slip away because of his own mistakes and wounded pride.

And luck must be on his side today, because when Bellamy looked up, he saw her familiar blonde hair through the window as she crossed the street outside. 

Slamming his laptop shut and tucking it under the counter out of sight, Bellamy called out to Octavia that he was stepping out for a few minutes. 

The cafe door clanged behind him as raced outside, ducking around pedestrians as he jogged to catch up to her. 

“Clarke!” 

She froze at the sound of her name and spun around slowly, blue eyes wide as she met his stare. 

His chest heaved from the exertion, but his breathlessness came from the sight of her. Clarke was so beautiful, how had he ever let her go? 

But she seemed nervous, her eyes wary, and her stance ready to flee. 

“Bellamy?”

“Clarke, I’m so sorry for last week, I-” he started to apologize, running his hand through his hair. But then his eyes caught the white coffee cup in her hands. 

“Starbucks? Really, Clarke?” Bellamy asked without thinking, instinctively knowing how much she hated the overpriced chain and always complained about their brews. 

Clarke’s eyes dropped to the ground, and she shuffled on her feet. “I love your coffee, you know that…”

Bellamy exhaled sharply, placing his hands on his hips in defeat. She was ready to run, and he was exhausted, too tired to keep chasing her, or to continue this pointless fight. “So it’s not the coffee you’re avoiding then…”

“Bellamy, don’t-” Clarke started to say, her tone apologetic.

“No, it’s fine. I get it,” he interrupted, taking a step backwards, holding a palm out to her signalling his defeat. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”

Turning his back on Clarke, Bellamy marched back to the cafe feeling completely hopeless. 

\---

By some miracle, Clarke avoided the Blakes in Ark Hill for the next week. Seeing them was too painful, and brought too many memories to the surface - memories that she was trying to forget, memories of how much time she had wasted waiting for Bellamy. 

Clarke kicked herself for it now, how much time she had wasted being delusional, and hoping that one day Bellamy would fall in love with her. She’d been stupid, naive, and clueless. 

Luckily, Clarke was able to occupy herself with her packing. Last week she had called a friend from grad school, Josephine Lightbourne, who now owned one of the biggest graphic design companies in the next state. Josie had been offering positions to Clarke for years, but Clarke had always turned them down in order to stay local in Ark Hill, and to continue working independently. 

But Clarke desperately needed a change. And Josie had helped make that possible. With one phone call, Clarke had a job out of state and a new apartment lined up, ready for her to move within the week. 

The day before Clarke was due to leave Ark Hill, she stopped by the local farmer’s market, run by her friends from high school, Monty and Harper. After promising to keep her move a secret, they had been supplying Clarke with the extra cardboard boxes she needed to pack up her apartment. Initially, Clarke thought she’d gathered enough boxes, thinking she’d throw out most of her belongings that reminded her of Bellamy. But her broken heart wasn’t strong enough to throw away those reminders quite yet. So Clarke was back at the market for more boxes. 

“Hey, will this be enough?” Harper asked, pointing to the pile of folded boxes set aside behind a table. 

Clarke stuffed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, and breathed out. “I hope so, otherwise I’ll never fit it all in the moving van.”

Harper smiled softly, and put a hand on Clarke’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re really leaving, we’re going to miss you.”

Clarke bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. If she attempted any goodbyes, or even started crying, there was a chance she’d change her mind about the move. And she couldn’t let herself do that. She needed a clean break.

Bracing herself, she admitted, “I’ll miss you too, Harp, but I’ll stay in touch. I promise. Thanks for the boxes.” 

As Clarke bent down to pick up the boxes, she heard a commotion behind her. Spinning around, she saw Octavia weaving through the stands toward her, arm delicately tied in a supportive sling. 

“What the hell did I just hear from Monty, Clarke?! You’re leaving?” the teen questioned, eyes blazing. 

Clarke straightened her posture. “I, yeah, I am.” Wringing her hands together, she met O’s stare. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this, Monty shouldn’t have said anything.”

Octavia crossed her good arm across her chest. “Where are you going? And why?”

Under Octavia’s intense stare, Clarke fiddled with a ring on her pinky finger. “I got a job out of state, with my friend’s design company.”

Octavia’s eyebrows narrowed defensively, and it pained Clarke to realize that she knew Octavia so well to know that defensiveness was a coping mechanism. Octavia would lash out because she would feel like Clarke was abandoning her. 

“This is because of my brother, isn’t it?” Octavia finally said, her voice losing its previous intensity, and a rare vulnerability showing through. 

“No. No, not at all,” Clarke said too quickly, and then shrugged. “It’s a great opportunity job-wise. I’d be a fool to pass it up.”

Octavia kicked at the floor with her shoe and mumbled something under her breath. Clarke couldn’t make out what was said, but it sounded an awful lot like ‘ _ Bell’s the fool’ _ . 

“What was that?” Clarke asked, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

“Oh, nothing,” Octavia shook her head slightly. “When do you leave?”

Sighing, Clarke admitted, “Tomorrow. Look, I haven’t told Bellamy yet, but I will tonight. So please don’t say anything until then, okay?”

“Fine, I won’t,” Octavia agreed. “But you’ll stay in touch right? And come visit?”

“Of course, I will. I’m going to miss you so much!” Clarke exclaimed, reaching out and pulling Octavia into a quick hug, being careful of the girl’s fragile shoulder. “You know you’ll always be my sister, no matter what.” 

After another hug to Octavia and saying her quick goodbyes to Harper and Monty, Clarke piled the boxes into her car. Clarke retreated to her apartment and packed away the last few memories of her life in Ark Hill, as silent tears spilled down her cheeks. 

\---

Bellamy checked his watch and let out another impatient sigh. Octavia was supposed to have been back at the cafe twenty minutes ago. With her injury, he couldn’t let her watch the place for an extended amount of time, but she was supposed to watch the register for a few minutes so he could call Gabriel about the book updates. With the amount of clarifications and suggestions to review, Bellamy already knew it would be a lengthy phone call. 

Finally the door chimed, and Octavia flew inside, her dark hair streaming behind her in the breeze. 

“O, where have you been? I’m running late for my phone meeting.”

Bellamy untied his apron and turned toward the stairs to head up to the apartment to make the call. But Octavia grabbed his arm, spinning him back to face her. 

“Bell, stop,” she said, her voice insistent. “Clarke’s moving away. Tomorrow.”

His jaw dropped, and his breath caught in his throat as he processed the news. It felt like his heart was being ripped in half and torn to shreds. “Wait, what?” he muttered, shaking his head and staring down at his sister curiously. 

Octavia stepped closer into his space, tightening her grip on his forearm. “Clarke. Your best friend, the one you’re in love with. She thinks you hate her, so she’s moving out of state. Apparently she got a job with an old friend from school, a design company. I wasn’t supposed to tell you anything, she wanted to tell you herself, but… she’s leaving tomorrow morning.”

“No,” he whispered under his breath. Pulling free from his sister’s grip, he dug his hands into his hair. His knees felt weak so he sat on the steps, leaning forward. “She really hates me that much?”

Octavia shook her head. “She doesn’t hate you, but she thinks you hate her. I think that’s why she’s leaving. She’s in love with you, and I think it hurts her too much to be here, in Ark Hill, around you.” 

Bellamy took a shaky breath, trying to calm himself. But it was an impossible feat. Clarke was moving away, and it was all his fault. All his damn fault for kissing her, then barely communicating for months, and then yelling at her, and always saying the wrong things when he tried to make things right. 

“I have to talk to her, to stop her,” he admitted, shocking himself at the honesty of his own words. Doubting himself, Bellamy glanced up at his sister for reassurance. 

“Go, Bell. Tell Clarke how you feel, tell her the truth for once.”

“Okay. Okay, I will,” he said, his voice shaky as he battled the onset of nerves. He stood and wiped his palms on his jeans. Calling Gabriel about the book could wait, but he needed to get to Clarke now. 

Bellamy held up one finger to Octavia, signalling her to wait. Quickly he dashed up the stairs to the apartment. Tucked away at the back of the drawer in his night stand was a present he’d bought for Clarke years ago, but never had the courage to give her. But if there was ever going to be the right time, this was it. It was his one and only chance. 

Running back down the stairs, Bellamy quickly grabbed his phone from the counter, where Octavia was already tidying up with her one good hand. 

“Wish me luck,” he called, darting out the door, and jogging down the street. He couldn’t care less if the people of Ark Hill thought he was crazy, all that mattered was getting to Clarke. If she was ready to move away, then Bellamy had to tell Clarke how he truly felt, no matter how much it terrified him. 

\---

Eyeing the time on her watch, Clarke’s stomach plummeted as she realized how slowly the day was passing. In a few hours, she’d have to walk over and tell Bellamy she was leaving Ark Hill, for good. Just the thought of having to say those words to Bellamy made her want to throw up, so Clarke was dreading the moment. 

She pulled at a hangnail, glancing at the apartment, which was empty except for the piles of packed boxes, ready for the moving trucks to pick up the next morning. 

Clarke really didn’t want to leave Ark Hill. But staying, with Bellamy here, it just wasn’t an option any longer. She’d been able to spend years waiting for Bellamy because he’d been her best friend, and a constant in her life. But now, with Bellamy not even in her life as a friend, it was too painful to bear. In order to move on, Clarke needed a fresh start, a clean break. 

A sudden knock at the front door made Clarke jump, stealing her from her thoughts. Slowly, she walked toward the door, curious as to who it could be when the knock pounded loudly again. 

“I’m coming,” she hollered, taking the last few steps to the door, and pulling it open. 

Clarke gasped, “Bellamy? What are you doing here?”

He looked frazzled and harried, and completely out of breath, as if he’d run all the way here from the cafe. “Tell me it’s not true. Tell me you’re not leaving.”

Clarke bit her lip, scared to confirm the truth. Taking a half step backwards, so he could see the packed boxes as proof, she nodded. “Yeah, I’m leaving,” she finally whispered. 

Bellamy swore under his breath, running a hand through his curls so they became an unruly mess. 

Her stomach flipped at the sight of his nervous habit. It was a miniscule gesture that reminded her of the man she loved - and the very reason she needed to leave town. 

“Clarke. Stay.  _ Please _ . I don’t know what I can say to change your mind, but please don’t go. Not like this,” Bellamy begged. 

She shook her head side to side. “I have to go, I can’t stay in Ark Hill, not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I- I just- I can’t be here anymore,” Clarke tried to explain. She couldn’t meet his eyes, so she stared everywhere else - at her hands, over his shoulder, and at the ground.

“Please, Clarke. Stay. You can’t leave.”

She shook her head again. “Why should I stay? Give me one reason,” she dared, raising an eyebrow to issue her challenge.

Bellamy inhaled quickly and caught her eye. His stare was so sincere, so vulnerable. “Because I love you. And I need you to stay, so we can work this out.”

“Bell,” Clarke cried, her hands flying up to her hairline in frustration. “You can’t say that to me now, just to convince me to stay. Not when I’ve wanted you to say that to me for years. Why now? Why not before, or at the airport? Or at the hospital?”

“Because I was an idiot, okay? I should have said it earlier, but I was scared. You have to believe me, Clarke,” he said earnestly. “You’ve been my best friend since we were kids, and I’ve always loved you. But I never let my heart go all the way there, falling for you, not while I had O to look after. I couldn’t let myself think of you that way. Because it would hurt too much when you fell in love with someone else, someone worthy of you, and someone who wasn’t me.”

“Bell, I could never love anyone  _ but _ you,” Clarke argued back, as her voice grew soft on the last words. 

His cheek twitched with the hint of a smirk, but Bellamy continued, “Yeah, but how was I supposed to know that, when you were always away for school. And then you moved back here, still single, but I couldn’t dare get my hopes up, so I told myself I would be happy to be your friend.”

When he paused, Clarke asked the question she’d been mulling over for days. “Then why did you kiss me at the airport before you left, and then pretend nothing happened when you got back? I can forgive you being upset, because your sister was in surgery, but you kept pushing me away. It wasn’t once, you kept pushing me away. That hurt, so much.”

Bellamy scratched his jaw. “I’m so sorry, Clarke. Truly. I wasn’t in my right mind then, I was jet lagged, and nervous to see you, and worried about O - it’s not an excuse. I was an idiot, and I am sorry for how I acted.”

Tentatively, Bellamy reached out, his fingers carefully brushing over her forehead. From the pain in his eyes, Clarke knew he was tracing the red scratches marked there from the accident. 

This was what she had hoped he would have done at the hospital, when he finally arrived at her side. Against her better judgement, she closed her eyes and leaned into the warmth of his touch, letting her imagination wander to what could have been. And perhaps, what still could be, if Bellamy’s words were true. 

But she still had questions that she needed answers to. She bit her lip and moved away from his hand, and then asked, “So what now? You want me to stay, so we can what? Start dating? You say you’re in love with me, but where do you see us then? Do you expect me to move in with you? Help you raise your sister? What’s your plan?”

His cheeks flushed slightly, as her question put him on the spot. “I don’t know. Clarke, all I know is that I am so in love with you that the thought of you leaving town makes me sick to my stomach. I hate that I messed everything up between us. Every time I try to fix things, I keep saying the wrong thing, and making it worse. I hate that I keep messing up, but I could never hate you. Trust me, the entire time I was in Oxford, I spent every day thinking about you, and coming home to you.”

He took a breath, and continued, “So I don’t know exactly where I see us, but I do know that I need you beside me. I need you, Clarke. You can’t move away, because I want you here with me. So...” Bellamy paused, reached into his back pocket. 

And held out a small velvet black box in his palm. Carefully he opened it, displaying a small, yet brilliant diamond ring. 

“Marry me, Clarke,” Bellamy said, his voice nervous yet sincere. “Marry me, so I can love you for the rest of my life.”

Clarke’s hands flew to cover her mouth as she gasped in surprise. “Bell, I- I don’t know what to say.”

“You could say yes,” he said with a wry grin, a familiar teasing glint returning to his eyes. He stood patiently, waiting for her answer. 

“But it’s so sudden,” Clarke said without thinking, “We’ve only kissed once!”

“I’m happy to up that number anytime,” Bellamy said, his trademark smirk returning to his face. “Say yes, and we can have a long engagement while we figure everything out. And if you still want to take the job, you can, and we can figure this out long distance until O graduates and I can move out to be with you. But at least I’ll know you’re mine, and that I get to love you.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke whispered, his name a prayer on her lips. 

She took a deep breath, lacing her fingers together in front of her chest. “I- umm. This is a lot for me, okay? I thought you hated me. I was ready to move away from my home, to try to move on from you, and now you’re standing here asking me to marry you, days after rejecting me.” She paused, and returned her focus to the ring, the case still balanced on his outstretched hand. “And where the fuck did you get a ring?”

Bellamy blushed, and used his other hand to scratch the back of his head. “Honestly? I’ve had this ring for years, Clarke. Remember that trip we took out to the ocean, years ago? Octavia was eight or nine at the time? You stayed with O while she napped on the beach, and I went for a walk, remember? I saw this ring there, and it reminded me of you. I thought I was out of my damn mind buying it for you back then, because you were about to move away for grad school. So I told myself I’d find the courage to tell you how I felt when you came home for Christmas. But then I got scared, and hid the ring away. It was always supposed to be yours, Clarke, I’ve always wanted to marry you.”

Clarke wiped away the tears from her cheeks that had escaped at his words. Bellamy had purchased this ring for her  _ eight  _ years ago. Bellamy had wanted to marry her for the last eight years, and had spent even more years quietly loving her across the cafe counter. 

“Hey, don’t cry,” he said softly, reaching up to wipe away the few tears she’d missed. His hand was warm and gentle, and Clarke wanted to lean into his touch again. So she did. 

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice cracking, thick with emotion. 

Bellamy’s eyes darted up to connect with hers. “What did you say?” he asked, awestruck. 

Clarke placed her hand over his hand that was still against her cheek. “I said yes, Bell. I want to marry you.”

“You really want to marry me?” he asked again in disbelief. 

Clarke nodded, her laughter joining her tears of joy. 

Bellamy gathered her into his arms, and Clarke clung to him - he was her rock, her shelter in the storm - he always had been and now always would be. Truthfully, Clarke had known deep down that she’d say yes as soon as he asked the question. Bellamy was too important to her to ever let him out of her life, even though she had just been hours away from moving away from him forever. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind about wanting to spend the rest of her life married to her best friend, even if they had only kissed once.

Eventually, they leaned back from the hug. Bellamy placed a soft kiss on her lips. 

“There, now we’ve kissed twice,” he joked, eyes sparkling with joy. 

Clarke pushed his shoulder playfully, “You’re such a dork.”

He grinned, “But I’m also your fiancé, so I’ll take it. Speaking of…” Bellamy opened his palm again, bringing the ring back to her attention, “This belongs to you.”

Carefully, he picked the ring from the box. Clarke held out her left hand and he slid the ring over her finger. 

“Perfect fit,” Bellamy whispered, lifting her hand to kiss her ring once, his eyes never leaving hers. 

Clarke couldn’t help but smile as she stared down at her left hand, adorned with her new ring that Bellamy had picked out just for her years before this was a reality. In fact, she was grinning so widely that her cheeks began to hurt. 

“Bell, we’re engaged,” Clarke whispered, looking up at him through her lashes, in awe and amazement of that fact. 

Bellamy looked happier than she’d ever seen him, smiling at her before leaning close for another kiss. 

“So, what now?” Clarke teased, resting her forehead against his. Enjoying being in his arms, she didn’t want to lean out of his embrace.

“Let’s go tell Octavia,” Bellamy answered easily, with a mischievous glint in his dark eyes, “And then we can have dessert and decide if you want to unpack here or at my apartment.”

Clarke rolled her eyes at him, but couldn’t stop the smile on her face. “Let’s go.”

\---

“Hey, babe, what are your thoughts on calla lilies?” Clarke asked, keeping her eyes on the tablet in front of her. 

“Hmm? What was that?” Bellamy asked as he measured out coffee beans for the roaster. 

“My mom wants to know if we like calla lilies?” Clarke was scrolling through her Pinterest feed, adding anything that caught her eye to her wedding planning board. While Bellamy had only proposed a month ago, they had already decided to hold a small outdoor ceremony in the park beside the river in a few weeks time. 

Even though Bellamy had offered to have a long engagement, there was no sense waiting, not when they’d already spent fifteen years waiting, in love with each other on opposite sides of the cafe counter. 

Bellamy clicked on the coffee machine and it purred to life, the rhythmic drip a comforting sound. “Honestly, all I need is you and a legal marriage certificate. Bonus if my sister’s there. Anything else is extra,” Bellamy answered sweetly, leaning across the counter to give Clarke a quick kiss. 

Clarke kissed him back, but raised her eyebrows playfully. “While that’s incredibly sweet, it’s not helping make any decisions here.”

Bellamy rested his elbows on the counter and pulled Clarke’s left hand away from the tablet, cradling it in his palms. “I’m sorry I’m not more helpful. But I trust you. As someone wise once told me, go with your gut and trust your instincts.”

Laughter bubbled out of her chest at his words and Clarke shook her head back and forth slightly, her hair moving side to side with the movement. Bellamy kissed the ring on her hand, and stood up with an easy smile on his face as he returned his focus to his cafe duties. 

Clarke took another sip of her coffee and saved a few more pins to her boards to show her mother later. 

Bellamy glanced up at the clock on the wall. “O’s late,” he muttered, straightening out the napkin dispensers. 

“Give her a break, old man,” Clarke called out in defence of her soon to be sister. Octavia was still recovering from her injuries and dutifully following her physical therapy exercises. And even though she couldn’t play on her school’s volleyball team this year, Octavia never missed a practice or game, cheering on her teammates from the sidelines. 

“I can cover for her if you need a break?” Clarke offered, folding the cover over her tablet and placing it on the counter. . 

“No, that’s fine,” Bellamy began to say, but was interrupted by his cell phone, ringing from his back pocket. 

Pulling the device out, his eyebrows furrowed as he read the caller display. “Actually, do you mind? It’s Gabriel.”

Clarke jumped up and kissed Bellamy on the cheek as he passed her by on his way up the stairs. Gabriel was his mentor from the Oxford writing workshop, the mentor who was helping Bellamy finish his manuscript and working on solidifying connections to book agents. 

Though Clarke rarely worked behind the counter now that Bellamy was back home, she didn’t mind helping out when they were short-staffed. The routines came back to her, like riding a bike, as she greeted customers with a warm smile and filled their orders. 

Twenty minutes later, Bellamy reappeared down the staircase, bewilderment in his eyes. 

“Clarke,” he said softly, to catch her attention, and once again Clarke was blown by how much love she held for this man.

Bellamy moved toward the counter and took a seat on Clarke’s stool. Their normal positions were reversed as he rested his elbows on the counter, looking up at her behind the counter. “There’s an agent who wants to represent my book. They have a publisher lined up and everything. They already emailed the contracts for me to look at. It’s happening.”

“Oh my gosh!” Clarke squealed, running around the counter and launching herself into Bellamy’s arms. She looped her own arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “That’s incredible, Bell! I’m so proud of you!”

Bellamy squeezed her tightly, and kissed her cheek. “None of this would be happening without you, you know that right?” he said, catching her eye. 

Clarke shook her head, and placed her hands on his shoulders. “No, you’re the one who wrote the book, Bell.”

Bellamy stared at her in awe, shaking his head slightly in disagreement. “Okay maybe, but it would have stayed in my notebook forever. You’re the one who pushed me to go to that workshop. If I hadn’t gone, none of this would be happening.”

Leaning forward, Clarke placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “Let’s call it a team effort, then.”

Bellamy grinned, leaning forward for another kiss, and Clarke melted into his embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this angsty little story! 💜
> 
> as always, come say hi on tumblr!


End file.
